


a love supreme

by gaywoodandbine



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alec Doesn't Give A Fuck, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, bamf malec, sentient magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:13:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21942694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaywoodandbine/pseuds/gaywoodandbine
Summary: Five Christmases across five years, plus one very special New Years.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 7
Kudos: 42
Collections: The Malec Secret Santa - Edition 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bluexshift](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluexshift/gifts).



> Merry Christmas [bluexshift](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluexshift)! I tried to include as many of your likes as I could. You had so many fun ones, and I hope you enjoy! I’ve played a little fast and loose with the show timeline and sequence of events, and I hope that’s okay. This will be a six-part fic in total, and it’ll continue to be updated regularly.

I.

A splash of icy cold water and snowy slush sprays up in an arc as Alec’s boots hit the ground hard. A loud shriek of shifting metal and then a clang echoes behind him, and the rusted ladder of the old fire escape he’d jumped down from drops straight to the pavement. He barely spares it a glance. His agility rune screams across his abdomen, working double time to keep him upright and surefooted when he immediately takes off running with only a half-second’s pause to right himself.

His quarry is already a good fifteen yards ahead of him, darting across a busy street for the alleyway beyond. The glint of the seraph blade at the man’s hip flashes in the streetlights, and then he disappears into the darkness. 

Alec swears under his breath and speeds up. 

Three months have passed since Valentine Morgenstern was found dead on the shore of Lake Lyn. Unfortunately, ideas are much harder to kill. The Clave and every Institute across the world has spent the interim hunting down what’s left of the Circle, but new pockets keep springing up like a goddamn fairground Whack-A-Mole.

New York has had more than their fair share, but with the way Valentine had narrowed his attention onto the city, it’s not surprising. Just a pain in Alec’s ass.

Reaching the street, he dodges between the flow of pedestrian traffic and races across, slow-moving cars allowing him to slip into the alley silently. The tall buildings to either side swallow up most of the light as he crosses the entrance, the illumination of the nearby streetlights creating a borderline on the pavement. He doesn’t know how far back the rest of his team is having left them behind as soon as he saw their last straggler make a break for it, but for the moment, he’s completely on his own. Alec slows, turning cautious as he keeps every step light and quiet. The cold stings his throat and lungs, breath fogging out into the air in drifting smoke.

There are too many noises coming at him from every direction, but it’s the one sound that shouldn’t be there that alerts him, a sound he’s intimately familiar with: the whisper of metal across leather, of a weapon being drawn.

He sees the brief glimmer of activated runes along the blade as it flips through the air, and then pain explodes across his shoulder and chest, radiating down his draw arm. His bow was going to be pretty useless in close-cornered combat, anyway, but he’s effectively been muzzled in that department now.

Alec has a split-second to rip the blade out before a shadow tears away from the right, slashing wildly at him. He feels the displacement of air in front of his face and ducks, rolling through the snow and grime and wet. 

The momentum and force carries his opponent forward. The sword clashes against the brick of the opposite wall with a flash of sparks. Alec finds his feet and tightens his grip on the hilt of the dagger. He throws. The dagger hits, embedding itself in the man’s back. He stumbles, losing his grip on his blade and drops to his knees.

Alec yanks his bow from his shoulders and dives in close again. The curved back of the bow finds its place against the man’s fragile neck, and Alec yanks hard. There’s a brief struggle and then a snap, and he goes still, slumping in Alec’s hold. 

Alec lets go, still breathing hard from the chase and the adrenaline and the pain, and he stumbles back to fetch himself up against the wall behind him. He feels a little light-headed. It’s possible that dagger found an artery. 

He just needs a minute. 

There’s movement at the mouth of the alley, another figure stepping into the darkness. Alec huffs, body tensing in preparation to throw himself back into another fight.

But instead of a blow coming, there’s a sigh of relief and a soft “tsk” of exasperation. The figure comes closer, stepping over the dead body, and the vague form now comes into sharp focus. 

Magnus reaches out to settle his hand against Alec’s neck.

“You couldn’t have waited one second to let me come with you?”

There’s no real accusation or heat behind the words, and Alec smiles, “Sorry.”

Magnus shakes his head, fondness in his eyes that Alec loves to see, “Shadowhunters.”

Tiny pinpricks of cold alight along Alec’s cheeks and melt, and Alec turns his face up towards the sky as the snow begins to fall in earnest. With it comes almost a blanket of quiet over the city, seeming to muffle the somewhat distant sounds of traffic and people talking, off-key but enthusiastic carols being sung by a passing group of drunk friends. From somewhere nearby, a church bell tolls the hour, the beginning of a new day. 

Cool fingers find his jaw, tilting his head back down, and he’s met with the warmth of Magnus’s smile to send a frisson of heat through his body. His head aches in a way that means he’s probably got a concussion, and he can feel blood still dripping sluggishly down his arm, but the dull throbbing pain of it is of far less concern then the taste of Magnus’s lips.

Magnus smirks a bit, and when Alec focuses again, it seems he’s noticed where Alec’s attention has drifted.

“You’re looking a little delirious. How much blood have you lost already?”

Alec shrugs, immediately wincing when his right shoulder protests with another sharp rush of pain.

“Eh, I’ve probably got a couple more pints in me, I’m fine.”

Magnus snorts, shaking his head again as he gets his arm around Alec’s waist and snaps his fingers. A swirling vortex of golden light appears in front of them.

“Well, I can’t say this is the first Christmas I’ve spent patching someone up. Let’s get you home, hm?”

Alec nods, too tired now to argue that he needs to get back to the Institute. He’ll call Jace. At the very least, he can hold things down until Alec can come in. Something pings, then, at the back of Alec’s mind as they head for the portal, and he pushes through the fog and the pain to reach for it.

Oh. Right. Christmas. It has just turned into Christmas Day, hasn’t it? Nephilim don’t really go in for mundane holidays, but half of the Downworld were mundane at one point in time. It’s not a surprise that this time of year is more of a big deal for them nor that Magnus celebrates it, either.

“Hey Magnus?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Merry Christmas.”

The arm around his waist tightens a fraction, and Alec can hear the smile in Magnus’s voice when he answers, “Merry Christmas, Alexander.”


	2. Chapter 2

II.

The Hunter’s Moon is decked out for the holidays, red bows and garland along the bar top and multi-colored lights wrapped around the support columns. A large decorated tree stands tall in the corner by the jukebox, shedding pine needles and glitter onto the dingy floor. The place smells like stale beer and a little of wet dog on a good day, but there’s now an added scent of evergreen. Alec can’t decide whether it’s an improvement or not. 

Cheery Christmas music plays over the sound system, some smooth voice singing about how cold it is outside. Maia’s got felt reindeer antlers sprouting from the thick curls of her hair, and the attached bells jingle every so often when she moves her head as she stands pouring a couple pints of beer at the tap.

Alec leans against the bar, one boot propped up on the bottom rung of a stool, and his eyes drift over Magnus’s profile as he waits for him to finish catching up with Maia.

There’s the shimmer of melted snow still glistening on his eyelashes, scattered like diamonds in the black of his hair. Gold eyeliner catches the light, sparkling as he tilts his head back in a damn near giggle, and Alec can’t help the smile that spreads across his own face in helpless response. 

It hits him at random times just how lucky he is to have this man in his life, how different it could have been if they hadn’t met.

He catches sight of the mark he’d left on his throat the night before. It’s hidden well enough below the collar of Magnus’s shirt, but the long line of his neck as he laughs has it peeking out. 

Gone are the soft, warm emotions to be replaced with something hungrier that twists low in Alec’s chest.

He wants nothing more than to take Magnus home and get him back into their bed. His mind conjures up thoughts of last night without any prompting, the wide spread of his hand against Magnus’s ribcage, the squeeze and slide of his thighs around Alec’s waist, the arch of his body beneath him. 

“You’re staring, big brother.”

Izzy’s voice in his ear has a teasing lilt to it. He can see her smile before he even turns his head to look at her. She’s dressed nice, hair up in some fancy style that she usually only reserves for when she’s going out. Over her shoulder, he can see Clary shaking snow off of her jacket by the door. 

The place is getting more and more crowded by the minute. Alec had thought, foolishly, that this would be a fairly tame affair for the night before a major holiday, but when the Downworld decides on a party, the community steps up. 

Clary reaches them, giving Alec a bright and slightly damp hello as she tucks herself against Izzy’s side, but Alec is only half paying attention.

Magnus starts to step away, pulled into another conversation with a Seelie Alec doesn’t recognize. It feels like his chest constricts in that moment, the slowly lengthening distance between them already too much. He reaches out, hand curling gently around Magnus’s wrist to pull him up short. His skin is soft and smooth beneath Alec’s fingertips, pulse beating a steady rhythm against his thumb. He rubs back and forth across it, waiting.

There’s curiosity in Magnus’s eyes when he turns, the corner of his mouth tilted up in a slightly confused smile, but he lets himself be reeled in. Alec’s fingers slip lower. He grips Magnus’s hand, bringing it up as he ducks his head to lightly brush his lips across the back of his knuckles. 

Magnus bites at his bottom lip, smile growing a little wider at the gesture, and Alec’s heart skip-trips a beat at the sight. 

“Alexander?” 

The soft honey of his voice around his name is probably Alec’s favorite sound in the world.

“Don’t go too far.”

He presses a last kiss to the bare skin of Magnus’s ring finger before releasing him.

Soon.


End file.
